


Long Way Down

by joss80



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Canon compliant through the end of season 13, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joss80/pseuds/joss80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony returns to Gibbs' house a few days after their farewell, and calls him on the BS of the past year. Post Season 13 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not ready to make nice

**Author's Note:**

> Something felt very unsatisfying about the end of things between Gibbs and Tony at the end of Season 13. Nothing was explained, none of the BS attitude that Gibbs had copped for 9 long months. So here's my take on Tony calling him on it, and the fallout from that....

The wood on the boat wasn’t smoothing down right, and the Bourbon wasn’t hitting his central nervous system right either.

Gibbs swore under his breath and reached for the jar again, taking several larger sips before placing it back on the workbench. 

It had been a long week, longer if he dared to admit it to himself. The upheaval of Tali arriving and Tony resigning had been preceded by _months_ of building tension, and Gibbs felt like sighing because it was all over _and_ bashing his own head against the nearest wall in frustration at the same time.

He dropped his head to bump against the upturned hull of the boat instead, and let the sanding block in his hands fall to the floor. 

He knew he needed to get his proverbial shit together. He just wasn’t sure how. And he wasn’t sure _why_ this was all affecting him so much. He’d been purposefully distancing himself from Tony for ages, trying to force the man’s hand into moving on, and he’d felt pretty good about his efforts until Tony actually handed in his badge and gun.

Something had cracked, then. A small crack, somewhere inside, that had only grown larger and larger over the past seven days until it was now a gaping maw that seemed to stalk his waking hours and hound him in his sleep.

And he didn’t know what the problem really was, or how to fix it.

_Damnit._

Some part of his brain registered the sound of the front door opening and then closing above him, and he did let out a sigh then before bending over to pick up the sanding block. 

He’d make an attempt at the façade of normalcy. Just for a few minutes. Just long enough for whoever it was to get the non-verbal message and leave.

And then the shoes appeared at the top of the stairs and he swore again under his breath, turned back to the boat, and tried to ignore the sudden buzzing in his body.

He thought their goodbye in the basement a week ago had concluded things, but apparently Tony thought otherwise because Gibbs could hear the man’s footsteps cross the cement floor until they came to a stop right behind him.

And all the while the hole was right there inside his chest, opening impossibly wider all of a sudden, threatening to overwhelm him.

He let the sanding block rest on the boat and turned abruptly to face his former SFA.

Tony was dressed casually in a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt, but it was his posture –arms crossed defensively in front if himself, his back straight and his eyes piercing – that made Gibbs do a double-take.

“What, Tony?” His voice came out sounding more despondent than he would have liked, but it was what it was.

“You tell me, _Jethro,_ ” came the snappy reply, and Gibbs narrowed his eyebrows against his better judgement.

Was Tony _pissed off?_ There was one way to find out.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Gibbs replied, honestly, but with a bit more bite to his tone.

Tony stepped back a few feet, settled his denim-clad rear end on the edge of the workbench, and continued to stare at Gibbs.

“You really have _no idea_ , do you?” And this time it was the genuine amazement in Tony’s voice that made the hairs on the back of Gibbs’ neck stand up in warning. “You really have no fucking clue.”

Maybe this was about the kid.

“Where’s Tali? You guys aren’t overseas yet.” he asked, trying a different tactic.

Tony half-snorted from across the room, then seemed to compose himself.

“With my dad. Because I needed to come here, and because paperwork takes time even with the Director of Mossad on your side.” Snarky. Again.

“Okay, cut the crap, Tony! No more games!” Gibbs yelled out, surprising both of them. “What the hell is going on?”

Tony pushed off from the workbench, and in three large strides was in Gibbs’ space, in his face, and practically snarling.

“This is _not_ a game. This has _never_ been a game for me, Jethro.” Tony’s voice was as cold as his breath was warm across Gibbs’ cheek. “You really want to know what’s going on. Can you handle that, huh?” 

The challenge was clear in the scant space between them, and Gibbs’ head was spinning even as he nodded and ground out a harsh, “Yeah!” This was Tony, and this was probably going to involve _feelings._ Crap.

“Okay,” Tony said, cocking his head to the side as he took an unexpected step backwards. “We worked together for more than a decade. You were my friend, you had me around for beers, let me sleep over when my boiler broke, stuff friends do. And then you changed. You started treating me like shit, started challenging me and suggesting I should leave.” Tony raised his eyebrows at Gibbs. “You have a really crappy way of showing leadership, by the way. It’s about connection, not pushing people away in order to get them to do what you want. But I digress….” Tony stepped forwards again, and pointed a finger into Gibbs’ chest. “You nearly get killed, you push me away. You get better, you push me away. You _punish_ me at work and stick me at my desk instead of letting me have your six like I’m good at. Well, you’ve got what you wanted, Jethro. I’m out of your life. It didn’t have to be this way, but this past year has made it crystal clear to me just what kind of a guy you are and how little you think of the man who’s stuck to your side through thick and thin.”

Tony breathed in deeply, and let it out in one big sigh as Gibbs looked on with his mouth gritted in a firm line, trying desperately not to shove Tony backwards as he seethed inside. And the worst part was that he wasn’t sure who he was angry at.

And Tony continued.

“I didn’t consider leaving because I was feeling unfulfilled at work. I considered leaving because I couldn’t stand working with _you_ any longer. So I’m grateful for Tali, because now I have a new purpose that doesn’t involve my being emotionally pummeled every day by someone I once considered one of my best friends. I’m tired of putting up with your shit. I don’t know why you chose to treat me like you did, but it fucking hurts too much and I’m calling you on it.”

Gibbs considered Tony for a minute, while his heart pounded in his chest and his face flushed. Then his hand whipped up, centered on Tony’s chest, and pushed him backwards. 

“You have no idea what I went through this year. _No_ idea!” he barked, pulling back as he realized what his hand was doing. The touch against Tony’s chest had been electric, and he looked down at his palm as it fizzed with the feeling of water on an electric fence. _This_ was one of the reasons he’d been avoiding Tony, and now he knew that his instinct had been right. There was too much energy between them, whatever it was, to stay capped under the Bullpen’s roof.

And then Tony was in his face again, pushing his hand down but not letting go.

“Because you wouldn’t _let_ me in, you asshole!” Tony growled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good and you don’t realize a good thing when you’ve got it. I’m one of the few people who genuinely _cared_ about you. Maybe more than cared,” he finished off with a resigned sigh.

Then Tony loosened his grip on Gibbs’ hand, pushed away, and turned for the stairs.

“Damnit, DiNozzo!” Gibbs ground out, part pissed and part curious now. “Come back and finish what you started.”

But Tony kept on moving, taking the stairs two at a time as Gibbs let out a not-so-silent _fuck_ and followed as fast as he could after him. He caught up with Tony by the coat rack at the front door, where Tony was shrugging into a gray hoodie.

“Oh no you don’t!” Gibbs growled, pulling the hoodie back over Tony’s head as Tony fought him for it.

“Fuck off, Gibbs! You’re not my boss anymore, you don’t get to tell me what to do, ever again.” Tony grabbed his hoodie back, then thought better of it and threw it to the floor. He advanced on Gibbs once more until their chests were pressing together.

“You and I both know what this is really about, don’t we Jethro?” Tony’s voice was calm, cold, and not in the least bit in sync with the words that followed. “You felt it downstairs, didn’t you? That connection between us? _That’s_ what you’ve really been running away from this whole time, isn’t it? You know, usually near-death experiences draw people closer to those they love, but you intentionally fucked that _and_ our friendship _and_ our work relationship up royally instead. Good job.”

Gibbs was fuming now, at the audacity of the man in front of him and at the bitter truth in his words. And he wanted to punch him and settle things the way men usually did, but instead he pressed his lips roughly against Tony’s for a second and then pulled back with half a smirk. He watched with satisfaction at the confusion that played out over the younger man’s face.

“Is _that_ what you wanted, DiNozzo?” Gibbs taunted, even as his smirk turned to a frown at the realization of what he’d done, the very thing that he’d been fighting against for ages. “You want me to make out with you and say I’m sorry and suddenly everything will be okay?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew how hollow they sounded. How fake. How full of a false truth that maybe, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he actually hoped for.

But Tony was apparently done with talking. His head surged forward, his mouth meeting Gibbs’ just as roughly as the first time, but now there was the tip of a warm tongue pressing against Gibbs’ lips and strong hands cradling the back of his head, and Gibbs was so startled that it took him a few seconds to realize that he was fighting back with his own tongue and moaning into Tony’s mouth. And then Tony pushed away, looking both triumphant and tired as he bent over to pick up his hoodie off the floor. Gibbs knew his mouth was still hanging slightly open but there wasn’t much he could do about it as he watched Tony straighten back up.

“Just FYI, Jethro, _that’s_ how you make out.”

And as Tony turned for the door, perhaps for the last time ever, something seized hold of Gibbs’ gut and propelled him forward.

“No!”

The voice sounded foreign even to his own ears, but it made Tony pause for long enough that Gibbs could get between him and the door. He didn’t have a plan, didn’t really know what he wanted to do, but he knew that he couldn’t let Tony walk out of his life after that non-verbal admission on both their parts. He was still frustrated, and pissed off, but that gaping hole in his chest seemed to have grown ever-so-slightly smaller over the past few minutes.

“I told you earlier,” Gibbs huffed out, trying to catch his breath and contain his thoughts, “You need to finish what you started. And now I’m going to finish what I started too.”

He caught the faintest hint of a sad smile as he advanced on Tony, but the younger man didn’t resist when Gibbs brought their lips together again, tenderly this time. And he fully participated in pulling Gibbs’ clothes off as they made their way upstairs several minutes later. And his voice was heated as Gibbs settled down on top of him and Tony begged him to rub their dicks together. And a few minutes later, just about when Gibbs thought he couldn’t hold back any longer -

“Fuck me.”

Gibbs pulled his mouth off of Tony’s collarbone and stared down into the green eyes below.

“What?”

“Fuck me, Jethro. I need you, this. Now.” Tony’s voice was urgent, needy, something Gibbs couldn’t remember hearing before. They’d barely started exploring each other, and Gibbs wanted to savor the experiences. But the thought of taking Tony, claiming him in that way made him spin even higher. 

“Please.”

The wide eyes staring up at him were too much, the need in his body too powerful to resist.

Gibbs reached for the lube in the draw next to his bed, slicked a few fingers, and slid first one and then a second into Tony. Tony arched up, keening forward and pushing against Gibbs’ hand as his cock lay rigidly against his belly.

“More, Jethro!” Tony pleaded, and he reached up a hand and ran his fingers along Gibbs’ equally erect dick for the first time.

Gibbs shuddered. It was all he could do to keep control, and he hastily scissored his fingers inside Tony and then slicked himself with the lube. Tony raised his knees up more in invitation, and Gibbs pressed forward slowly, oh so slowly, until he found himself sliding past the tight entrance and smoothly into Tony.

“Fuck!” They both exhaled at the same time, and Gibbs caught the crack of a real smile on Tony’s face as one lit up his own. And then Tony wrapped his legs around Gibbs’ back, pushing him in even further, and Gibbs lost any sense of coherent thought.

He began a strong and fast rhythm, moving in and out of Tony as one arm supported him on the bed and the other hand wrapped around Tony’s cock, setting up a similar motion there. The gasps and groans that the two of them were letting out grew in fervency and pitch as Tony writhed under him, and it was all too quick before Tony was spilling himself over Gibbs’ hand and his own belly, and Gibbs was emptying himself into Tony.

A moment or two later he slowly opened his eyes and saw the brilliant green ones below him, bright and fiery. And he let his forehead drop to rest against Tony’s, let their breath and sweat mingle as they both contemplated what had just happened.

After a long while, Gibbs found his voice.

“You staying?”

“Sure,” Tony responded easily. 

And Gibbs smiled again.

* * * * *

Gibbs cracked a bleary eye open and wondered what had disturbed him. The clock on the nightstand read 2:34 and there wasn’t a sound to be heard. But then he felt it, the faint tickle of fingers against his upper thigh. His head whipped over towards the other side of the bed and there was Tony, still naked as the day he was born and with a hand poised above Gibbs’ groin.

He felt his cock twitch as he gave Tony a once-over, noticed how his dick was hard and leaking, and how the man’s mouth was moving closer and closer to one of Gibbs’ nipples.

“Damn, DiNozzo,” he said, his words sounding half like an endearment and half like a curse as Tony’s lips fussed at his nipple and his hand eagerly wrapped around Gibbs’ shaft.

He couldn’t help but push up, closer, seeking more contact as Tony nipped at him with his teeth and pressed at all the right places with his palm and fingertips. He could feel himself spiralling embarrassingly fast – again – and when those eyes glanced up to meet his it was almost his undoing. He quickly laid a hand over Tony’s to stall him, and another cupped Tony’s face to move it away from his body.

“Just wanted to warn you….” Gibbs hinted with a self-conscious smile, but Tony just leaned forward to kiss him gently.

“I was actually hoping,” Tony whispered against his earlobe, “that I could return the favor. You know, like what we did earlier.”

Gibbs couldn’t help the involuntary shiver that ran through his body at the touch, and at the suggestion. He hadn’t considered things that far. He hadn’t considered much at all, really, given that they’d gone from zero to sixty in the space of half an hour earlier that evening without any forethought. But the hand was back on his dick, stroking and teasing and then one of Tony’s fingers slid down behind his balls and pressed lightly against his hole and Gibbs’ brain decided to hell with it.

He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and tossed it at Tony, who somehow caught it with his spare hand. And then Tony was moving, down and up at the same time as his mouth met Gibbs’ in a hot, wet kiss and his newly-wet fingers started working Gibbs open. The sensations were heady, the strange and the familiar mixing together with the knowledge that it was Tony who was with him, and suddenly Tony crooked his fingers and Gibbs felt a lightning jolt of pleasure run all the way up his spine.

He couldn’t hold in the _"fuckkkkkkkk"_ that escaped his lips, and Tony read his signals perfectly and was pushing home within a few seconds. And then it was his turn to stare up into Tony’s eyes, and he watched as the blown irises turned impossibly darker in the dim light from the upstairs hallway.

“We’re finishing what we started, right?” Tony’s breath hitched as he moved slightly inside of Gibbs, and Gibbs couldn’t be sure in the dark but he almost thought he saw the same sad smile from a few hours before scroll across Tony’s face. But then Tony’s mouth was on his again, and Tony was moving inside him, and he was lost to sensation as the friction on his dick built and built. And then Tony shifted again, and the same jolt against his prostate sent Gibbs soaring over the edge. He couldn’t help yelling out, gripping his hands harder against the warm skin of Tony’s back as Tony started trembling and then cried out too as he came.

Gibbs pulled Tony down to him, encouraged him to rest for a minute on his chest as the two of them came down from their highs. One of Tony’s fingers traced idly through the hair on his chest, and he let out a loud sigh that made Gibbs smile.

“You were right, you know,” Gibbs spoke quietly against Tony’s hair, and then pressed a kiss into it.

“About what?” Tony asked, turning his face up slightly so he could see Gibbs’.

“About the ‘me fucking up’ part.” Gibbs paused. “And about the ‘those we love’ part.”

Tony tipped his head back down again and resumed tracing Gibbs’ chest with his finger. 

“I know.”

Gibbs waited, not sure if Tony was going to say anything else, but after a few minutes he figured that maybe post-sex was one of the few times when Tony was quieter.

“You want to clean up?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Tony replied, sounding suddenly energized, and he disappeared into the en suite bathroom and returned with some wet cloths.

Five minutes later Gibbs had fallen back into a deep and sated sleep, with Tony’s arm lying lightly across his chest.

Five minutes after that, Tony slid out from under the covers and quietly gathered his clothes from the four corners of the room.

“I was right,” he whispered towards Gibbs’ sleeping form in the bed. “You were an ass. I was a sucker. And now I’ve got what I wanted, and it’s still too little too late.”

He closed his eyes for a second, inhaled deeply to steel his resolve, and opened them again.

“Goodbye, Jethro.”

And, with that, he slipped out of Gibbs’ bedroom, out of Gibbs’ house, and out of Gibbs’ life.


	2. Not ready to back down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG thanks to cackymn who read through this chapter and gave me some awesome feedback :)

Gibbs’ brain swam back into consciousness with a lazy and decadent feeling of well-being. He could smell Tony on and around him, and he allowed himself a subtle stretch of his arms and legs before he turned to the side to see his bed mate.

But Tony wasn’t there.

He turned back to look at the clock on the nightstand, which now read 8:17 in bright red numbers, and grunted. Tony was probably downstairs helping himself to coffee and the remains of the previous night’s pizza in the fridge while sprawled out on the couch watching TV. The mental image was one that made Gibbs smile as he found some clean clothes and underwear in his dresser and made his way down the stairs.

But Tony wasn’t there either.

Hi redirected his gaze to the front door - _No shoes_ \- and then around the room - _no note_ \- and, finally, looked out the window. _No car._

What the hell?

And then his stomach sank. Tony confronting him was real, he had no doubt about that. But his rush to go all the way, both ways?

_”We’re finishing what we started, right?”_

Tony’s words came back to him all of a sudden, flooding his mind in uncharacteristic panic as he grabbed his car keys and tugged his shoes on before running out the door.

No! Tony was _not_ doing this!

But as Gibbs drew closer and closer to Tony’s apartment, he realized just how at the mercy of the younger man he was. Tony had absolute control, absolute choice to do whatever he wanted in his life… including with Gibbs. And that sudden understanding, the sudden empathy he felt with his former SFA, burned deeper and more painfully than anything else.

This hadn’t been about forging new ground, about forgiving and forgetting. This had been about a poignant goodbye. When Gibbs thought back on their frenzied encounter the night before, it occurred to him just how emotionally and physically distant Tony had been. There had been very little kissing apart from their initial contact downstairs, next to no intimate touching from the younger man, and the race for penetrative sex that he hadn’t really thought about too much at the time but that now, in retrospect, rang several alarm bells. And the part that really ate at him was remembering Tony’s discordant and disinterested “I know” after Gibbs’ attempt at an apology and reference to Tony’s own words about their feelings towards each other.

He struggled with the spare key at the front entrance to Tony’s building, took the stairs two at a time because he didn’t think he could stand still long enough to wait for the elevator, and fumbled with the key again at Tony’s apartment door. 

Five seconds later he was in, and it was clear that nobody was home. Everything was spotless. He checked the bedroom and found the closet half empty. The fridge and kitchen cupboards were almost bare of food.

And then he remembered – Tony said that Tali was staying with his dad. And Senior was in apartment number…? Gibbs racked his brain for the answer, and a minute later was flying back down the stairs as fast as his still-healing knee would let him. 

He banged loudly on the door, and was just about to yell out Tony’s name when a door across the hallway opened and an elderly woman poked her curious head out.

“You just missed them,” she sighed, apparently hoping for someone else. “They’re off on some extended European vacation.”

“They?” Gibbs asked, more sharply than he probably should have.

She looked slightly taken aback, but replied nonetheless.

“Yes, Anthony and his son and granddaughter. I can only assume you’re looking for them.”

“Um, yeah,” said Gibbs, feeling fatigue and nausea wash over him. He scrubbed at an eye with his hand and looked back at her. “Thanks.”

He was too late, that much was obvious. His instinct was to drive to the airport and catch up with them, but his churning gut told him otherwise. This was intentional. All very heartfelt and true, and intentional.

He really had fucked things up with Tony. _Bad._

He let his phone ring through to Tony’s number instead, but it went straight to voicemail. The sound of Tony’s recorded message gripped his heart in a vise, and he managed to choke out a few words in return that he wasn’t sure the other man would ever hear.

And then he drove to work, because he wasn’t sure what else to do with himself.

* * * * *

The next few days were rough… and a blur, mostly due to an excessive intake of Bourbon on Gibbs’ part. He numbed the pain with alcohol at night, and fortified himself with several extra cups of coffee during the day. He wondered if his team noticed how hung-over he was half the time, and he spent the rest of his workdays riding their asses extra hard when he was more sober.

His waking hours were hounded by memories of years past - of the good times with Tony, and of the times this past year when he’d pushed Tony away and been a complete ass to him. And on the rare occasions when he really let himself sink into it, he allowed himself to see that this had started long ago. He hadn’t been able to see it then, had only really had his gut to go by, but the events of that night with Tony – particularly their initial touch, of all things - made everything so painfully clear that it hurt to even think about what he’d put the man through. He’d missed it. He’d completely missed it. And he’d dismissed Tony’s care and attention and goddamn loyalty in some sort of messed-up defence mechanism. He could see it now from both sides, in stark and heavy reality, and it sucked.

And then one day, about a week and a half into his pity party, he realized what he was doing. And that this was the second time in his life he’d done this. And that he didn’t want himself to head down that hellhole again. Tony was still alive. The man might want nothing to do with him, at least right now, but he was still alive. Which meant that there was still some kind of distant chance, even if it was just a chance to make amends. 

“McGee, I need you to teach me how to do something,” Gibbs called over from his own desk.

“Sure, Boss. What is it?” Tim asked, looking mildly amused. He stood up and walked slowly over to take a look. The NCIS tracking software was open on Gibbs’ screen, and Gibbs pointed at the blinking line in the “search” bar and looked at Tim with a questioning glance.

“Do I have this right? Is this how I track somebody’s phone number?”

“Are we talking legally, or off the books?” Tim asked, giving Gibbs a quizzical look. 

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. 

“Right.” Tim cleared his throat quietly. “Well, yes, technically that _is_ how you would track someone’s phone if you had reasonable cause to do so.”

“So if I put my number in here,” Gibbs said, poking at the numbers on his keyboard with two fingers, “it would track me right to this building?” He pressed enter, and the screen map zoomed to the States and then closer to DC, and then right into the corner of the building they were nearest to.

“Yup,” Tim confirmed. “Hey Boss… is this about –”

And Gibbs’ desk phone rang, sending Tim scattering back to his desk in anticipation of a call-out.

It became routine for Gibbs – waking up each weekday morning and grabbing a coffee or three on the way in to work was nothing new, but now he surreptitiously opened the tracking program when he arrived and pinpointed Tony’s location on the world map. It was a bit stalkerish, sure, but he found some sort of peace amidst his inner turmoil in knowing where Tony was. 

The dot moved from Israel to Italy to France over the course of a few months, with looping detours into several other countries along the way. Gibbs wasn’t one given to daydreaming and vivid imagination, but he found himself wondering about the sights that Tony, Tali, and Senior were seeing and the people they were connecting with. And, although he barely even admitted it to himself, he wondered if Tony ever thought of him.

He left the occasional voicemail on Tony’s phone and, although he really didn’t know what to say most of the time, the words _I miss you_ usually snuck their way into his message. Gibbs spent more than his share of time thinking about Tony, that was for sure. And the more he thought about their situation – or lack thereof – the more determined he became.

He wasn’t sure where Tony’s head was at, or where it was going to be at whenever he finally graced the soil of North America with his presence again. But he knew that he had to do things differently if he ever had a second chance. He wasn’t sure what would change Tony’s mind – grovelling certainly wasn’t his style – but he figured that an open and honest pursuit, something along the lines of the way Tony had pursued their friendship in years past, might be his best bet.

And then one Thursday morning he dragged himself to work after a long night of boat and bourbon in his basement, and the dot had moved. It had moved all the way across the ocean and back to Tony’s old apartment building. His heart leaped into his throat and he felt the morning’s coffee threatening to come back up. 

_Tony was back._

And it was barely 8.30am. His impulse to jump up and leave was so strong, but he forced himself down into his chair and took a few deep breaths.

_Tony was back._

He knew he needed to wait… _had_ to wait, until the end of the work day, at least. Or maybe until Tali was in bed. He idly wondered what time a jet-lagged and time-zone-mixed-up toddler might fall asleep, and then tried to forget about it. There was nothing more he could do until later, and he needed to keep busy. The longing he’d felt for months now, along with the pain of the unknown, gnawed at his belly, and although he didn’t end up eating lunch or dinner he _was_ unusually grateful for the case that they got called out to in the early afternoon.

But by the time 8pm rolled around and McGee handed in his preliminary paperwork, Gibbs was up and out from behind his desk in two seconds flat, leaving Tim with little more than a “See ya tomorrow!” in his wake.

And he didn’t see how Tim looked for a long few seconds at the closed elevator doors with a knowing smile on his face.

Gibbs drove the familiar route in record time, pulled out the spare key as he had so many months before, and was rapping nervously on Tony’s door within a matter of minutes. He heard footsteps on the other side, and then an eye blocked the door’s view hole before the door latch clicked unlocked and opened before him.

“Tony, I –” he began, and then stopped short. An older gentleman was looking out at him with surprise on his face, but it wasn’t Senior. 

“Can I help you?” The man enquired, and Gibbs decided he’d had quite enough of coming across people other than Tony in Tony’s building.

“The guy who used to live here – Tony. Can you tell me where he is?” He knew he sounded exasperated, but he had several months of frustration behind him and he just wanted this done with.

“Oh, sure. He bought the two-bedroom place next door. Gave me a really good deal on this apartment too,” he replied, sounding quite happy about things. 

“Thanks!” Gibbs said, already halfway down the hall towards the next door. His heart was pounding in his chest and his adrenalin was just about done for the day, but he knocked swiftly on the door anyway and waited.

Ten seconds later he heard the lock being turned, and the door opened with a warning, “Dad…” before Tony saw who it was and stopped short.

Gibbs tried to keep a calm and collected exterior, but he could quite help the treasonous corner of his mouth which kept twitching upwards.

“Hi Tony,” he managed to get out, quieter and less assured than he would have liked.

Tony stood there, his facial expression switching rapidly between disbelief and irritation, and he didn’t seem to know what to do. So Gibbs asked.

“May I come in?” And then, for good measure, he added, “Please?”

Tony swung the door open and, after a few more awkward seconds, gestured towards the sofa. Gibbs took a seat nearest to the door, and watched as Tony walked over and carefully seated himself in the armchair furthest from Gibbs.

Body language spoke volumes, and Tony’s was almost frosty. No beer was offered. Tony sat straight up, as if not knowing quite what to do with himself, and finally settled with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together under his chin. Slightly less chilly, but still unusually civil and tense.

“So, Jethro,” Tony began, tersely, “How can I –”

“Quit it, Tony,” Gibbs barked, feeling the long-supressed anger rising up in his chest. This was no time for fake small talk. There was one reason he was here, and Tony knew it.

“You know what,” Tony responded, a venomous tinge to his words, “You have no right to say that. This is my home, and my life, and _you_ are the intruder in it.”

“I had no idea, Tony,” Gibbs stated, as openly as he could manage. The whole _baring his soul_ concept was still new and uncomfortable to him. “No idea, until I got my head out my ass and really thought about things. Please, can we hash this out? At least talk to me about it. How can I make this up to you?”

Tony stared at him, hard, for several long moments. “How, exactly, are we supposed to start again after so many years of crap? I loved you in every sense of the word, Jethro, and you didn’t even accept my platonic love as a friend.”

Gibbs could feel the panic welling up inside him, now, overtaking the anger and swirling like a noose around his neck. “All I can ask is that you forgive me, and trust that I’m trying to change. These last few months….” Gibbs broke off, not sure how to proceed. Desperation wasn’t a good look, but Tony needed something more from him. He tried again. “You became my everything without me knowing it, Tony. And I couldn’t handle that… until you left. And then I realized what I’d done, and then you came back and,” he paused, and his face flushed but he didn’t care, “And suddenly it was as clear as day to me. For those moments, everything was right.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow up at his words, and shook his head ever so slightly. “You use big words, Jethro,” he noted. “Words like trust, and forgive… things that you have no right to request of me.” Tony stood, then, and put both hands on his hips. “I don’t trust you. I do forgive you, but I definitely haven’t forgotten.” And then he moved towards the door, causing Gibbs’ heart to sink.

“I need time to think.” Tony turned the handle, and Gibbs rose from his place on the sofa and moved to stand opposite Tony in the doorway. Those deep green eyes kept strong contact with his own as they appraised each other from two feet apart.

“I’m not giving up on this, Tony,” Gibbs promised in the grave way that he did, and he hoped that it didn’t sound like a threat. He quickly amended, “I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk, or ready to let me prove myself to you. As long as there is one iota of hope left, I will pursue you until you feel you can trust me again. You deserve that much from me.”

“Don’t talk to me about what I deserve, Jethro.” Tony shot back, his eyes sparkling with heightened emotion. “Look, I haven’t slept in almost 48 hours and I have a daughter who’s probably going to wake up and demand breakfast at 3am. My number one priority right now is as her dad.”

“I know,” Gibbs replied, quietly. “Absolutely.”

“You have my number. Don’t use it for at least a week. Then we’ll see.”

Gibbs stepped out into the hallway and turned to say goodbye to Tony, but the door had already been closed behind him.


	3. Forgive sounds good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize *profusely* for how long this has sat without an update. Seeing NCIS without Tony in September kind of broke my heart, and although I had this whole thing outlined I didn't have the motivation to work on it because I was really grieving the whole situation. But getting into a different fandom recently has actually helped me with motivation to finish this one, along with all the wonderful comments from readers. So this is for you guys, and it's now going to be 4 chapters instead of 3 because there's too much material (not a bad thing, right?), and the last chapter update will be SOON. Thanks for your patience with me xo

Elton John had it all wrong. Sorry wasn’t the hardest word – anymore – or the hardest part. No, waiting was the hardest part. 

Sure, Gibbs had waited for several months already, but the past week had dragged by slower than molasses in the dead of winter and his fingers itched to reach for his phone every time he thought about Tony… which was about every three seconds.

And finally, finally Thursday rolled around again and he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sat staring at the blank screen for several minutes. _What to say?_ He wasn’t good with these sort of words to start with, and now he felt incredible pressure.

He punched dutifully at the keypad, pressing each number several times as he spelled out the words he wanted. It was simple, really, but it was a start.

_Hi Tony_

He set the old flip phone down again, and went about his work. He didn’t know what to expect, and so he purposefully forced himself to have no expectations. Tony might answer today, he might answer tomorrow… who knew? And that was okay.

So he was pleasantly surprised and secretly thrilled when his phone vibrated barely 20 minutes later with an incoming text.

_Hey Jethro_

That was a good sign, right?

 _I’m already on my fourth coffee of the day_ he texted back. Because he was.

_I’m on my third. Tali was up half the night with the stomach flu._

Empathy. He was pretty sure Tony needed empathy on this one, not advice and fix-it suggestions.

 _That’s rough._ he texted back. 

It felt weird, but good.

 _Yup_ came back a minute later.

Gibbs really didn’t want small talk. He’d know Tony for ages – he needed meaningful talk. Or, at least, get-to-know-you-better talk. _Tali._ He knew almost nothing about the girl, and to hear she’d been so sick made him feel bad for both her and Tony.

_How’s Tali feeling now?_

They texted back and forth for the rest of the day after that. And the next day too. By the time Saturday rolled around, Gibbs was done with pushing a zillion buttons on his old phone and gave Tony a call mid-morning instead.

“Jethro,” the smooth voice on the other end of the line greeted him. Gibbs could hear some excited shrieking in the background, and smiled in spite of himself.

“Did I catch you at a good time?” he asked, bemusement clear in his voice.

“ _My Little Pony_ just came on TV. She’s _obsessed_ with ponies,” Tony groaned.

Gibbs couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“And her favorite,” Tony continued, “is – somewhat ironically – the blue one with hair in the colors of a Pride flag.”

Gibbs felt his face flush immediately at Tony’s reference to the events and revelations of _the night_ several months ago. And although his face burned and he was glad Tony wasn’t there to see it, his heart gave a not-so-subtle hopeful leap in his chest at the fact that Tony had referenced their connection in the roundabout way that he had.

And he didn’t know how the hell to respond to that.

“You still there?” Tony asked a few seconds later.

“Yeah, sorry,” Gibbs said, and he knew he sounded flustered. “It sounds adorable.”

Neutral territory. Safe. And he would do his damndest to keep it that way until he actually saw Tony again.

“It’s pretty cute,” Tony admitted, and Gibbs could hear the fond smile in his voice. “But I draw the line at prancing around in a tutu with her.”

The memories appeared out of nowhere, slamming home with a forcefulness that Gibbs hadn’t felt in years. He drew in a sharp breath, his pulse hammering in his veins, and felt some sort of passionate anger rising in his body. Not anger towards Tony, exactly, but anger at opportunites lost and stolen from him.

His voice was grim and firm when he spoke, and he hoped he didn’t frighten Tony off but, really, it was the only thing he could say. And Tony wanted honest, so he would give it.

“You have only begun to discover the depths, the lengths to which you will go for your daughter, Tony.”

There was silence for some moments, and then a loud sigh on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out.”

And then Tony cleared his throat and sniffed.

“Speaking of Tali,” Gibbs said after a moment, trying to segue into a similar but different topic as subtly as someone who didn’t do subtle could, “I imagine you’re quite busy with things, so let me know if I can help with anything. Or if you have time and want to hang out….”

Tony sighed again. That wasn’t a good sign. But then –

“Yeah, it’d be good to see you. But you’re right, things are a bit crazy right now.” Tony paused, and Gibbs waited him out. “She has ballet tomorrow afternoon, and we plan on doing an ice cream date afterwards. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

The answer was yes, absolutely yes, _yes_. But Gibbs was also re-discovering a part of himself that was emerging after an all-too-long self-imposed hiatus: Being strategic in romantic relationships. Not coy, exactly, but definitely strategic.

“That sounds like a really special time for you. I don’t want to interrupt,” Gibbs tried, sounding as sincere as he could in spite of his heart pounding ridiculously fast in his chest.

“Oh shut it, Jethro. You know I wouldn’t invite you if I didn’t want you there,” Tony called him out on it immediately, and Gibbs raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“What time, and where?” He responded, as matter-of-factly as he could.

“3pm, the studio at the corner of McBride and 5th. See you then.”

“Yeah, see you then. Bye, Tony.”

He heard the phone connection go silent and closed his eyes for a second. 

_An opening._ He had an opening. 

No pressure.

* * * * *

He arrived at the studio at 2.55pm just to be safe, found a parking spot, and made his way awkwardly into a room of girls and moms and pink fluff and sparkles. He stood just inside the door for a moment, getting his bearings amongst the sea of frilly movement, and spotted Tony sitting on a bench on the far side of the room. There was a little girl with dark hair and a pink leotard sitting next to him, and Gibbs found himself fighting the sudden tightness in his throat.

_Tali._

He’d seen the girl from afar of course, when Elbaz had first brought her to NCIS, but this was his first time actually meeting her. And the fact that Tony was trusting him with this wasn’t lost on him.

Some of the parents moved outside, but others started taking seats on the few benches scattered around the room. He caught Tony’s eye and hurried over.

Tony turned to Tali as Gibbs approached, and tapped her hand to get his attention. She turned towards Tony, and then towards Jethro as Tony indicated him.

“Tali,”Tony said quietly and slowly to the little girl. “This is my friend, Jethro.”

Gibbs stopped a few feet away and crouched down. He couldn’t help but smile at the girl, who looked across at him with big eyes, and the lump in his throat disappeared.

“Hi Tali. Do you mind if I watch your ballet class?” he asked.

Neither man expected what happened next.

“Dohd!”

Tali’s face blossomed into a huge smile as she stepped across the space between them and wrapped her small arms around Gibbs’ neck. “Dohd Gibbs!”

Gibbs looked past her at Tony in confusion, but Tony just shrugged and gave a big grin back.

“I’m _pretty sure_ ,” Tony said, “That dohd means ‘uncle’.”

Tali pulled back and placed a petite hand on Gibbs’ cheek. “Dohd.”

“Hi sweetheart.”

Just then the teacher called the class to begin behind Gibbs, and Tali gave him one last brilliant smile before she ran past to join the other girls.

Gibbs pushed back up and stretched out the worse of his two legs while looking over his shoulder at the throng of girls in the centre of the room.

“Ziva must have shown her more than just that one picture,” he said, turning back to Tony. “I think she likes me.”

The younger man’s face flushed a light shade of pink, but he spoke his mind anyway. “That makes two of us.”

Gibbs felt his own face heating up, so he quickly moved towards the last open seat – the one next to Tony – and sat down. 

It was squished. He had Tony on his one side, and a lady with three tote bags stacked precariously on her lap on the other. He tried to keep his long legs to himself, but gave up after a minute of increasing uncomfortableness and just let them fall open a bit – one knee against a tote bag, and one against one of Tony’s.

He thought he’d prepared himself, but the touch was as electric as he’d hoped and feared even through the material of two pairs of pants. Tony sat silently to his left, but didn’t move his knee. 

Gibbs then found himself wondering what to do with his arms. He’d crossed them in front of his chest, but he wasn’t willing to sit like that for half an hour… so once again he found himself intentionally relaxing and hoping that he didn’t tick anybody off. He clasped his hands in his lap as one elbow fell against a tote bag and the other brushed up against the bare skin of Tony’s lower arm.

He couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath, and looked down to watch as goose bumps appeared on the skin of both their arms. Neither of them moved. Neither of them moved for the next half hour, Gibbs lost in his own head amidst the pink tutu swirls and intermittent shrieks of laughter in front of him. He was brought back down to earth suddenly by a gentle hand on his leg, and it wasn’t Tony’s.

“Ice cream?” Came the curious voice, and as he focused he noticed that Tali was looking between the two of them questioningly. His heart did a funny little leap just then at the innocent and touching query, and he smiled at her and didn’t wait for Tony to reply.

“You bet!”

He felt Tony nudge him good-naturedly with his arm as Jethro leaned forward to take Tali’s hand and stand up, and the smile on his face stretched impossibly wider. In this moment, this exact moment with the two of them, he felt happier than he had felt in _years._

And an hour later, when they were parting ways outside the nearest ice cream shop, hope reared its tricky head even stronger.

“You want to grab dinner sometime next weekend?” Tony asked, his back to Jethro as he leaned over and buckled Tali into her carseat. “Just dinner, not a date,” he clarified as he stood up and straightened the hem of his shirt. Then he shot Gibbs an apologetic smile to soften the pronouncement.

“Sure,” Gibbs replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “You want me to pick you up?”

“Why don’t I pick _you_ up?” Tony decided, as he lowered his sunglasses casually over his eyes. “I can head to your place as soon as Senior comes over.”

“Sounds good.” Gibbs stood there, suddenly feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. Tony was barely two feet from him and the urge to touch the man was strong. The reasons why he _shouldn’t_ initiate contact, at least right now, weighed stronger in his mind though, and he gave a shy smile instead. “Text me the time and day when you have it figured out with your dad. I’ll see you then.”

And he turned and made for his truck without a backward glance.

* * * * *

“I need food that’s not from McDonald’s,” Tony announced, as soon as Jethro opened his front door. “There’s a joint down by the river that’s really nice?”

The question hung in the air between them, and Gibbs looked out at the sun sitting low in the sky. _A sunset dinner next to the river? Not romantic at all_ his brain mused.

He nodded, and Tony added, “We have two hours.”

“Tali’s bedtime?” Gibbs guessed out loud.

“No, my dad’s,” Tony responded with a wry smile.

The drive was a quick one, which Gibbs was grateful for given the excitement and nervousness vying for attention inside him and wreaking havoc in his stomach. Tony parked his car expertly into a tight spot next to the Potomac, and a minute later Gibbs was having a hard time not focusing on Tony’s rear end as the man strode in front of him along the walkway into Cantina Marina.

Tony glanced back after a few moments, and his eyes widened slightly and he grinned slyly as he caught Gibbs’ stare. 

Gibbs knew he was busted, and it had never felt so good.

But then they were at the hostess stand, and Tony flashed a broad smile at the young woman there.

“For two, please, as close to the river as possible,” he said, and she picked up a couple of menus and indicated for them to follow her.

Feeling emboldened by Tony’s response to his apparently not-so-subtle ogling, Gibbs moved his right hand to press lightly against Tony’s lower back as they followed her around tables and out onto the riverside deck.

Tony looked back at him with an inquisitive gaze.

“Not a date, I know,” Gibbs whispered as they continued walking. But he didn’t move his hand until a few seconds before they were seated at their table.

The sun sat low on the river, and a light breeze rippled through the water as Gibbs noticed a boat motoring past them. He looked over at Tony, and Tony looked hard at him.

“Okay, this is totally a date, isn’t it?” Tony observed with a half-smile. Gibbs watched as the younger man bit at his lower lip for a moment, and then he forced himself to drag his eyes upwards as he chuckled.

“This is all in your court, Tony,” he stated with a slight shrug. “I’m just here to spend time with you, whatever that looks like.”

Their gazes held for a few tense moments until a waitress interrupted them and asked what they wanted to order.

“Beer!” came the simultaneous response from both of them, and Gibbs laughed out loud at that and watched as Tony blushed slightly. He figured that, at least, was a good sign. They both had a quick look through the menu and, after placing their orders, returned to a somewhat awkward silence between them.

“So tell me about your trip. And Tali? Your Dad?” Gibbs asked, figuring it was a good as any a place to start.

Tony’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit, and he gave Gibbs a grateful glance before pushing his hands forward, palms down on the table in a kind of stretch. Then he looked up again, directly into Gibbs’ eyes.

“Amazing,” he declared. Tony spent several minutes talking about everything they’d seen and the people they’d met in Israel and Italy. “And Tali especially loved Italy and France,” he finished up.

“Art?” Gibbs asked.

“No, she’s really into fountains,” Tony replied with a smile.

“How was it for you, coming back here after that?” Gibbs asked in a softer tone, wondering about the emotional impact of returning to somewhere that he’d left so abruptly.

“It was hard,” Tony admitted, pursing his lips, “and not just because the vacation was over. The rest of our lives… it’s like, no pressure!”

Jethro looked imploringly at Tony. “You gotta make it work.”

Tony studied him for a few seconds. “No question about it. I love that little girl with all my heart,” he stressed, “She’s amazing. _And_ it’s a lot of pressure, trying not to screw a kid’s life up anymore than it’s already been screwed up. _You_ know how hard parenting is.”

“It’s no walk in the park,” Gibbs agreed.

“But the love… amazing,” Tony sighed out.

“Yeah.”

Their eyes met, and Tony broke the gaze first as he looked down shyly. Tony’s hands were still palms-down on the table, and Gibbs reached over and placed his hands over Tony’s. It was a minute before he composed the words he needed, but Tony didn’t pull away.

“You want to talk about this… thing, yet? You know, the elephant?”

Tony kept his head bowed, but his eyes rose to meet Gibbs’. The gaze was intense, but after several moments of Tony not saying anything, Gibbs gave his hands a light squeeze and broke their connection. That, somewhat ironically, seemed to give Tony the strength to say what was on his mind.

“I’m scared, Jethro. So fucking scared,” he admitted. “To trust you with my life but not my heart….” he trailed off.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Gibbs soothed, letting his fingers brush against Tony’s lightly once more. “I’m here, and will continue to be here no matter what. I _want_ to keep proving myself to you, for as long as you will let me.”

“Thanks,” Tony whispered, seeming suddenly tired as his shoulders dropped and he let out a loud sigh. But then he smiled over at Gibbs, and the teasing twinkle was back in his eyes.

“Do I have to kill McGee for showing you how to trace my cell phone?”

Their food arrived shortly after that, and the rest of the meal passed quickly in a volley of good conversation and a few shared inside jokes, the likes of which Gibbs hadn’t been sure they’re be able to talk about again. It was good for them, for their friendship and whatever else was slowly developing, and he was more determined than disappointed when Tony turned the car into his driveway afterwards.

The ball was in Tony’s corner, but Gibbs wasn’t about to just leave it alone. He wanted Tony to want it, to want him, to want this. And as much as he wanted to take those next steps with the man, he decided that he wouldn’t until Tony begged for it. It was the only way of leveraging power that he had, and being the best version of Leroy Jethro Gibbs that he could be was definitely not a bad thing.

Tony looked nervously at him from across the front seat of the car, and Gibbs smiled confidently.

 _Leave him wanting,_ his brain urged.

He leaned forward slightly, drawing closer to Tony, and he heard the younger man’s breath puff shallowly out of his mouth as their cheeks touched. He could smell Tony's cologne, felt the scratch of stubble against his skin, and fought hard to not get distracted.

“Goodnight,” Gibbs whispered against his ear, before withdrawing and getting out of the car quietly. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was struggling to keep control of his own breathing, but he thought he’d done a damn good job of the whole awkward _saying goodnight_ scene.

And he _knew_ he’d done a good job when he reached his front door and turned around to wave, and saw that Tony was still sitting in his car in the exact same half-shifted-sideways position that Gibbs had left him in.

He’d been inside his house for a full two minutes before he heard the car start up in his driveway, back out, and take off down the road.


	4. Make it right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling this might be my last NCIS fic, but you never know. Thank you so much to those of you who have been along for the ride through this one, and for your patience while I finished it up. And, I hope you enjoy!

They established a routine of sorts, which was both comforting and frustrating.

Gibbs really didn’t have anything much else to do after hours other than the occasional woodwork in his basement, and he looked forward to spending as much time as possible with Tony and Tali. He occasionally helped with taking the little girl to preschool in the morning, and regularly joined them for weeknight dinners. The three of them went grocery shopping together on the weekends, him and Tony pushing separate carts, and he ended up being more present than absent at Tali’s ballet classes over the next few months. He built Tali a dollhouse, and furniture to go in it, and her favourite My Little Ponies took up residence before the inevitable Barbies did.

And he and Tony went on more dates. It was the most hands-off version of dating that he’d ever engaged in, but it was also the most thrilling. From casual dinners to long walks and talks in nearby parks, to a particularly memorable sailing lesson where Tony had almost capsized their dinghy, Gibbs found himself opening up more and more even as he watched Tony’s walls slowly breaking down. Tony seemed to welcome Gibbs’ touch on his back or shoulder or arm, or the occasional brush of fingers, and Gibbs had done his part in waiting and letting tension build until he was rewarded one night as Tony pulled him into a hug and then kissed Gibbs goodnight on the cheek.

There were a lot more hugs after that, and a lot more cheek kisses. Sometimes Tony initiated them, and sometimes Gibbs did, and every single time the smell and feel of Tony chipped away further at Gibbs’ control and he could only hope that he was having the same effect on the other man.

He took a chance one day, while they were visiting the Botanic Gardens with Tali, and let his fingers grasp hold of Tony’s hand for a few seconds. It went against his usual M.O. of letting Tony take steps forward, but with the stunning scenery around them and the heady aroma of a thousand flowers in the air, it was all he could do to not take the man in his arms and kiss him senseless. The surroundings were practically screaming out romance and desire, and the emotional pull and tension between them seemed heightened by it all.

Gibbs watched as Tony looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Gibbs. And then he smiled and grasped at Gibbs’ hand more firmly, linking their fingers, and Gibbs felt his heart break in the best possible way as Tony smiled shyly at him and pulled him forward towards Tali.

That evening, Tony was unusually pensive as he chopped tomatoes for a sauce and Gibbs stirred spaghetti in a pot next to him.

“You okay, Tony?” Gibbs asked quietly, not wanting Tali to overhear the concern in his voice. He wondered if they’d pushed things too far today, if the hand-holding had been too much for Tony.

His doubts faded away the second that Tony lifted his head up to look at him.

“Wha - ? Oh, no, I’m fine. Just thinking,” Tony answered with a genuinely happy smile.

“Oh.” Gibbs responded, trying to hide the relief in his voice. “Good.”

“She won’t shut up about you,” Tony spoke out suddenly, and the wondering and amazement in Tony’s loud tone made Gibbs back up slightly and caused his breath to catch in his chest at the same time.

“All I hear is ‘Uncle Jethro’ this or ‘Uncle Jethro’ that,” Tony continued, pausing with his sharp knife – much to Gibbs’ relief – “and anytime that she knows we’ll be seeing you, she – “

“Uncle Jethro!” rang out suddenly, and a whirling ball of energy rounded the corner and barrelled towards the two of them. Gibbs automatically crouched down to intercept, and scooped her up in a big hug and spun her around in the air. He caught Tony looking at him from across the room, but ignored him and enjoyed the moment with her. 

Tony could wait. Tony could wonder.

“Come on,” Gibbs urged gently as he finally set her back down on the ground. “Go and wash your hands before dinner.

She ran off in a squeal of flailing limbs, and Gibbs stepped back over to the stove and continued stirring the spaghetti. He felt Tony move closer to him, and a second later Tony’s hand covered his on the wooden spoon and stilled it.

“You’re really good with her.” Tony’s voice was soft, and almost curious.

“She’s a great kid,” Gibbs countered, looking at their joined hands and enjoying the sight for a moment.

Just then a flash of lightning streaked across the sky outside the apartment windows, and the lights flickered. A loud rumble of thunder followed a few seconds later, and rain started pouring down too.

“We’d better eat soon in case the power goes out,” Gibbs suggested, starting to stir the pot again as Tony withdrew and hastened to finish up the ingredients needed for his sauce.

“Give me ten minutes and this will be done,” Tony said, and he began loading ingredients into a saucepan.

Gibbs nodded absently and let his mind wander a bit even though he could sense Tony watching him from time to time. He knew – hoped – that Tony knew that a lot of this _was_ about Tali. He saw it as dedication to Tali indicating a dedication to Tony, in a sense. Starting over meant a commitment to Tony’s whole life, his new life. He wondered what Tony’s deciding process would be like. Even if it took him another year – although Gibbs hoped to God that the time was a lot closer than that – it would all be worth the wait. Tony was worth the wait. Even this, this closer friendship was so good compared to how things had been before, when he’d been a clueless asshole.

It was Tony’s hand on Gibbs’ lower back that drew him back to the present.

“Dinner’s ready,” Tony whispered against his ear in a move reminiscent of Gibbs’ own at the end of their first dinner together. He moved past Gibbs to get some plates out of a cupboard, and Gibbs felt every nerve ending in his body tingle as he struggled to take in a breath.

The longing for Tony was so deep, so keen, that he took a few minutes to himself in the bathroom to wash his own hands and gather his thoughts together. He didn’t think he’d have to wait a year. He wondered if he’d even have to wait the night, after that, for something more to shift. His last shreds of resolve seemed to wash down the sink drain in front of him along with the bubbly hand soap, and he was glad that Tali would be with them for the duration of the meal. At least that would give him a few more minutes to try to calm down. He wasn’t used to feeling so flustered, and this whole strategic and slow _thing_ with Tony had caught up with him with a sudden emotional and physical vengeance.

Tali happily munched at her food and chattered away in broken English during the meal, while Gibbs and Tony shot awkward smiles at each other across the table. The pasta and sauce were excellent, and Gibbs helped himself to a surreptitious second serving in the kitchen afterwards as Tony helped Tali get ready for bed.

He was just lifting a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth when he spotted a pink pyjama-clad body with wild hair rounding the corner. 

“Goodnight, Uncle Jethro,” Tali sighed as she rubbed at her eyes sleepily.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he smiled, gently crouching down again to meet her at her level and hug her. “See you soon!”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then, with a shy giggle, ran back around the corner towards her bedroom.

His heart swelled with joy, at the little bundle of sweetness who allowed him to love on her, and at her father who was allowing him to do the same with more and more ease. It was still a tricky path with Tony, a fine balance until Tony decided whole-heartedly that this was it, that this was what he was ready for. But it had been a beautiful and riveting journey so far, and he could only imagine at what the rest might look like. He had purposefully tried to push the more physical memories of himself and Tony out of his mind, along with the depth of his feelings for the man, but at times like this they sprang up uninhibited with such forcefulness that he could hardly see straight.

He loved Tony, of that there was no doubt. And Tony had loved him before, had said as much when Gibbs had confronted him after his return to DC. It was almost too much emotion for him to process.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present, and Gibbs slowly set his fork down on the island countertop in front of him.

“I think,” Gibbs started, and then hesitated as he tried to find the right words. “I think I’ve done more thinking, and thinking about emotions in these past few months than I’ve ever done before in my life. And now I’m sitting around, lost in thought and daydreaming about things. Not my usual style.”

“No,” Tony drawled out slowly, “But I hope it’s a good thing, all that introspection?”

Gibbs shifted in his barstool seat and turned his head towards Tony at his side. “Definitely.”

The tension in the air returned with an almost palpable ferocity then, as their eyes met and held and all Gibbs could focus on was Tony’s body so close to his.  
“I… I should get going,” he stammered, slipping his eyes from Tony’s gaze and his butt from Tony’s barstool. He knew he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes without jeopardizing things if the heated looks between them kept up. He was just about to push the stool under the lip of the kitchen island when the loudest clap of lightning yet whited out the night sky, and the booming thunder sounded like it was almost on top of them a split second later.

“Or you could stay,” Tony suggested quickly, sounding both hesitant and encouraging. “Some TV, a beer?”

The rain poured down with renewed vigour outside, and Gibbs didn’t have to be asked twice.

“Sure.”

Tony moved away from Gibbs then, towards the fridge, and Gibbs busied himself with getting his plate and fork into the dishwasher. 

“Here,” came a few seconds later at his back, and he turned to find Tony holding two beers, one in the hand stretched out towards him.

“Thanks,” Gibbs said, and he let his fingers linger as he took the bottle from Tony. The sensations, every little touch… they were all just as electrifying now as they had been back at that first ballet class of Tali’s. He gave Tony a long, hard look as they both paused and did the staring at each other thing again.

“Do you think this storm will wake Tali up?” Gibbs asked, taking a long sip of his beer as he felt a sudden calmness overcome him.

“After what she’s been through, she sleeps through anything,” Tony responded quietly. He took a step forward along with another drink of beer from his own bottle.

The lights flickered once, twice, and went out.

Tony took another step closer and leaned past Gibbs to place his half-empty bottle on the counter. He drew back slowly in the near-dark, and let his hand rest on Gibbs’ hip as he did so. Tentative fingers toyed with one of the belt loops on Gibbs’ jeans, and the sound of the two men breathing became suddenly loud and noticeably faster in the silence around them.

“Nervous?” Gibbs asked quietly, and his heart raced at the now-apparent inevitability of the situation.

“Terrified,” Tony replied, but he shifted closer still and moved his other hand to rest on Gibbs’ opposite hip as their bodies met.

“Today…” Tony started, “It was….” But then he stopped, at a loss for words. 

“I felt it too,” Gibbs acknowledged the unspoken words. “Something changed for you.”

Fingers from one of Tony’s hands snuck under the fabric of Gibbs’ shirt, and their breath hitched simultaneously as Tony flattened his palm against the warm skin of Gibbs’ stomach.

“Please, Jethro.” Tony’s voice was so soft, so filled with longing, that Gibbs felt his whole body respond in an instant.

He leaned forward and moved his lips closer to Tony’s mouth, his hand shaking as he raised it to grasp at the back of Tony’s neck.

“You sure?” He asked, their ragged breath mingling as he brought his forehead to rest against Tony’s.

Tony tilted his head forward, and let his lips hover a hair’s breadth from Gibbs’.

“Yeah.”

And then Tony was surprisingly intent as he fisted his hand in the back of Gibbs’ hair and urged Gibbs’ lips against his. The touch was tentative at first, a ghost of pressure as Gibbs worried his lips over the contours and edges of Tony’s mouth as his brain scurried to catch up with the pounding of his heart and the rapidly-building heat in the pit of his stomach. He lifted a hand to Tony’s face and cupped his cheek as he pressed harder and felt the younger man respond in kind. The kiss morphed into a more harried meeting of lips as nerves gave way to desire, and Tony responded by stroking at Gibbs’ bottom lip with his tongue.

The shaking was gone, and an indescribable energy infused his body as he pushed back with equal hunger, his hands delving under the hem of Tony’s shirt and seeking out skin as Tony pushed up against him and pushed the two of them against the counter. 

“God, Jethro,” Tony huffed out on a breath. “So long. I’ve wanted you for so long.” And then he was kissing Gibbs again with all his might and trying to lift his shirt off of his head at the same time, and then Gibbs’ hands were working on the button and zipper of Tony’s pants. A scant few minutes later, both of them shirtless and with jeans undone, Gibbs paused with a hand wrapped around Tony’s back and his mouth against Tony’s ear.

“I love you,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against the stubbled cheek next to him.

“I still love you,” Tony whispered in return, and Gibbs could hear the smile in his voice. The words did embarrassing things to his insides, the weight and meaning behind them both a reminder and a promise and they squeezed at his heart in a deliciously complex way.

“You _sure_ you want to continue this out here?” Gibbs asked, his breath barely a whisper in the dark. “I don’t want to be the cause of any more trauma.”

Tony was still and silent for a moment. Then let his fingers slip under the waistband at the back of Gibbs’ boxers, cupped his ass in his palm, and pulled Gibbs towards him in answer.

Gibbs couldn’t help the strangled sound that escaped his lips as they pressed together, _really_ pressed together for the first time. He could feel Tony’s hardness against his own, separated only by two thin layers of underwear, and his hips bucked forwards involuntarily to increase the friction. His hands fumbled lower on Tony’s back, pushing his jeans and underwear downwards, and all the while he was hyper-aware of Tony’s hand pushing his own pants and boxers down too, both of them working around from the back to the front.

And suddenly his hands knew what to do, knew what he needed to feel. He brought them around and rubbed his flattened palm along the length of Tony’s erection, and then quickly pushed the offending material aside and did the same against the uncovered heat of him. The sound of Tony’s groan was lost in one of Gibbs’ own as his fingers wrapped around and gave a strong, firm stroke up and down.

Then Tony was touching him too, his long, thick fingers sliding a sensitive and thrilling path along the underside of his dick and over the top, where the tip of his thumb lingered on the engorged head and played back and forth across it for a few moments.

“Damn!” Gibbs hissed against Tony’s lips, and Tony grinned against his in response.

“You like that, huh?”

Gibbs wrapped his hand around both of their erections and thrust hard against Tony and against their combined fingers. Tony’s sharp intake of breath was all the reward he needed.

“And you like _that_ ,” Gibbs noted with a somewhat breathless reply.

He felt Tony’s other arm wrap around his back, pulling them impossibly closer as Tony leaned his forehead against Gibbs’ and their gazes both fell down to their joined cocks and the hands working them.

“Shit, Jethro, I’m seriously about ten seconds away from –”

“Me too,” Gibbs confided in a low, desperate tone. “Just let it happen.”

He felt Tony pushing harder against him, heard Tony gasp against his ear, and watched as the man in front of him came undone, semen shooting and spilling out of him to mix on their bellies and their hands and their –

And Gibbs was coming too, pushing too and groaning against Tony and flying in a way that he hadn’t ever done before. It was too intense, too emotional, too perfect.

He couldn’t wait to do it again.

When he finally pulled himself together enough to look up, Tony’s dark eyes – looking straight at him – were almost as wide as the smile on his face.

“Um,” Tony started.

“Yeah,” Gibbs sighed, still trying to catch his breath.

“That was….” Tony puffed out.

“Yeah.”

“Stay?”

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”

Tony chuckled.

“Good. Bathroom?”

“You read my mind.”

Five minutes later they were snuggled up under the covers in Tony’s bed, and Gibbs started having another _what-if_ crisis as he felt Tony’s breath across his chest.

“What happens if Tali –”

“Relax,” Tony scolded him gently, and traced a hand over his lower belly. “She’ll knock before she comes in. And she’s been _begging_ to have you here for a sleepover for _months_ , so I think the little miss is going to be thrilled rather than horrified to find you in my bed.”

“I’m rather thrilled to find myself here too,” Gibbs murmured against Tony’s hair, and Tony turned and lifted his head to kiss Gibbs soundly on the mouth.

“That makes three of us, then,” Tony whispered. “I can’t wait to see you in the morning.”

“Me neither,” Gibbs sighed wistfully. He couldn’t help but think back to the two of them being in this same position all those months ago, and him feeling the same way, and then waking up alone to an empty bed. This time would be different, he knew, and he hugged Tony tighter against him for a moment.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

Gibbs contemplated his words for a moment.

“Thank you for giving me another chance, Tony.”

Tony pressed a kiss to Gibbs’ shoulder.

“There wasn’t any other option for me, really,” he said, kissing lightly at Gibbs’ shoulder again. “My heart has always been yours.”

“I’ll do right by it, Tony, I promise.”

“I know.”

* * * * *

Eight hours later there was a loud knock at the door, a grunt from Tony, and a desperate scrambling for the covers from Gibbs… and then an ecstatic shriek, the likes of which Gibbs hadn’t heard from bed in decades.

He smiled.


End file.
